The Moody Maelstrom
by Muffinzelda
Summary: AU for series 9 in which Robbie Lewis suspects that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to his new boss, Joe Moody. When these two clash there will be intrigue replete with Robson romance, Hathaway angst, and murder.
1. Introduction

Disclaimer: This story is for fan purposes only. I have liberally adapted certain elements of Lewis series 9 for this AU. The characters and these elements of the show are property of their respective owners, not me. Enjoy!

Author Note: Jean Innocent left a void in series 9 that was all too palpable in the scripts. She had big shoes to fill, but I do think that the writers could have done a better job with the character of Joe Moody. Steve Toussaint is a good actor and deserved a more interesting role- so here is my attempt to make Moody more interesting.

* * *

Robbie Lewis liked to go against the grain. He was a Detective Inspector who held his own in scholarly Oxford without ever having been to university himself. He was a stubborn man who wanted to work instead of taking advantage of retirement. And here he was at a Manchester City football game rooting for Newcastle United.

Lewis' daughter Lyn had bought tickets to the match for him as birthday present, though Lewis refused to let her celebrate any specific numerical milestones. His girlfriend Laura Hobson and grandson Jack had come to the game in Manchester along with Lewis and Lyn.

"God, Dads, you're so embarrassing…" Lyn rolled her eyes as Lewis was singing the chants of the Black and White Toon Army all by himself.

"You know what you signed up for, pet" he said wickedly. They both knew that Lyn was secretly happy to see her father so animated. He took another swig of his Brown Ale. "Time for another round, eh Laura?"

"Dad, really, remember that you're setting an example for wee Jack." Lyn admonished.

Laura Hobson laughed to see the father-daughter repartee, though she had to admit that she was somewhat astonished to see this side of Robbie. She usually brought out his gentlemanly side, but today her boyfriend was just shy of a football hooligan. Hobson was pleased nonetheless. One of the things that she loved about Lewis was his steadfast loyalty. Newcastle wasn't doing very well in the match, but you never would know it from Lewis' ebullience.

"I'll go," Hobson said, offering to secure further libations. Lewis beamed at her and pressed some money into her hands. He thought of swatting her on the behind as she got up from her seat but he thought better of it. Football might make him crazy, but not to the point of being irrational. Dr. Hobson is a force to be reckoned with.

When she returned with another beer for Robbie and a hot pretzel for wee Jack, she whispered something in Lewis' ear that wiped the smile off his face. "I thought I saw Jack Cornish seated down closer to the pitch."

Lewis scowled. "I hope you're mistaken, love, but I know you've got a good eye." He stood up and announced that he was going to the loo.

Lyn immediately recognized what was going on. Her adult face melded into that of an angsty pre-teen as she said, "it's work isn't it, dad?"

"Sorry, pet. I promise that I'll be right back."

"Frankly dad, I preferred it when you were stark raving mad about the footie." Lyn shook her head.

As Lewis made his way down a few rows, he did indeed recognize the profile of one Jack Cornish- an ex-copper in Oxford and friend of Robbie's back in the day. The former chief super had been implicated in a drugs production-smuggling-distribution operation, though he somehow had managed to keep his hands just clean enough. Knowing that the writing was on the wall, Cornish had wrangled an early retirement package and left CID. Lewis for one had been glad to see the back of him.

Lewis pulled his black and white knit scarf around his face as a thin disguise and moved a little closer. Jack Cornish was talking very closely to a tall dark fellow, well-dressed. Lewis decided to return to his seat, feeling powerless as he had to remind himself that no laws were being broken.

"So much crystal meth," whispered Lewis to Hobson when he sat down again. "And yet this tosser is still a free man. Bugger."

"What is it you always say to Hathaway? 'We just nick 'em,' ?" she said.

"Quite." Lewis left it at that, put his arms around Hobson and took another drink of his favourite ale.


	2. Meeting Moody

Lewis whistled as he got ready for work. He'd had a nice weekend away visiting with Lyn and the family, but for as much as he loved them he was happy to be going back to work. He always knew his place there. Even as a semi-retired DI working on contract, there was always work to be done or someone who wanted to bounce ideas off of him. As the figurehead of institutional memory, he had become a font of wisdom around the office. He smiled at how it irked Hathaway to hear Lewis be called a font of wisdom.

There would be a fresh face in the office today; Jean Innocent had become Chief Constable in Sussex and the coppers of Oxfordshire CID would meet their new boss. Lewis had seen administrators come and go over the course of his long career. He was sure that breaking in the new governor would be smooth sailing.

Even the Chief Constable was on hand to introduce the new Chief Superintendent Joe Moody. The new CS seemed like a pretty affable guy, but when Lewis laid eyes on Moody he felt déjà vu nagging him. Surely the new CS couldn't be the same man Lewis had seen in a tête à tête with Jack Cornish at the football match! Lewis didn't let his face betray his suspicions as he greeted the new boss with a hearty handshake.

Moody wanted to spend some time getting to know each of his DIs, so Lewis found himself on the other side of the desk where Innocent had once sat. Could this Moody fill her shoes? Even though the meeting was meant for Moody to get to know Lewis, Lewis decided to sound out the new arrival with a few questions of his own. "So, you've been with the Met, sir?"

"Yeah, South London was pretty full on. But I'm sure that Oxford has its challenges too."

_This guy thinks that Oxford is a backwater. I don't doubt that London is full of criminal activity, but wait 'til he sees how our learned citizens use and abuse Shakespeare and Jacobean revenge tragedies to mould their murderous desires. Seriously, you can't make this stuff up… _thought Lewis.

"I understand that you have thirty plus years of experience both in uniform and with CID and that you've rejoined us as a consultant. Is that meant to be full time work?"

Lewis nodded. "There is no part-time police work when you're on a case, sir." Perhaps Lewis was overly confident at the apex of his career in Oxford, perhaps he just wasn't the same Sergeant who needed to impress Strange all those years ago, or perhaps he was just plain suspicious. He decided to test Moody.

"All the same, I do make time to visit my daughter and grandson in Manchester. Went up there this past weekend to take in a match together. Sadly Newcastle lost to Man City, but I do love a good game."

Moody stared back at Lewis.

"Thank you, Lewis, that will be all."

_Moody was there all right,_ Lewis thought.

* * *

When James had returned from his holiday, he too had an interview with the new boss. Just like Lewis, Hathaway was surprised that the meeting wasn't quite what he'd expected. For starters, he found himself holding a cactus. It seems that Jean Innocent had left him a parting gift. Second, Moody's line of questioning threw Hathaway off.

"So, what do you think of this old DI that they dragged out of retirement?"

Hathaway bumbled a bit and accidentally stuck himself with the cactus. He feared that he appeared inarticulate, so he offered to write up his thoughts for the new boss.

* * *

Hathaway left Moody's office and went back to his own. Instead of finding Sergeant Maddox there, he found Lewis using her computer. "What's this? You usually delegate the computer stuff to me or Maddox…"

"Oh you're back from your holiday? A hello wouldn't go amiss."

Hathaway smiled as he recognized a bit of Hobson's influence on Lewis' humour.

"Where were you again?"

"Nowhere important."

"That explains why I didn't get a post card. Settle a bet for us, eh? I say it was another orphanage in Croatia, but Laura's got the crazy idea that you were raving it up in Magaluf, whatever that means."

"Neither. What are you up to on the computer?" Hathaway got nosy into Lewis' screen space. Lewis had been seeing whatever he could glean about Moody from the interoffice services. "Researching the old boss? I've never known you to be an apple polisher."

"I'm not," Lewis said. "James, did you get the feeling that something's not quite right with Moody?"

"Not at all," answered Hathaway. "Seems like a good bloke who just wants to impress people. Maybe you're just suspicious of Moody because he thinks you're old and should be put out to pasture."

Lewis growled and closed the browser window.

"You ought to log out before closing the window," Hathaway reminded him cheekily.

Lewis got up to leave. He had thought about taking Hathaway into his confidence that he suspected Moody of working with Jack Cornish but decided against it- for now anyway. He'd had enough of Hathaway's cheek and he didn't want Hathaway compromising his relationship with the administration.

"Where are you going?" Hathaway asked.

"To go find some crime. Got to make myself useful for the new boss," Lewis went to go find some coffee, and then possibly some crime.

Hathaway sat down at his computer and started to wade through the backlog of emails from his holiday. After that, he started to draft a memo about DI Robert Lewis.

What could he say, damn good cop who loved him like a son? No, the only professional thing to do would be to try to appear detached from Lewis. If Hathaway's in-person demeanour was aloof and facetious, his writing style was pedantic and could be misinterpreted as condescending. Hathaway tried his best to highlight Lewis' strengths, but the end product sounded stiff and reserved.

Lewis' hand trembled with a feeling of betrayal when he found the letter amongst Hathaway's files a few days later.


	3. The Secret Sister

Having found Hathaway's letter to Moody regarding Lewis' continued employment, Lewis was fuming. He was angry, but more than anything he just wanted to go for a pint so that Hathaway could explain himself. Lewis was upset mostly that Hathaway had written the note behind his back rather than being upset at the content of the letter itself. He didn't doubt Hathaway's best intentions but still wished that Hathaway had at least said something to him. He tried to call Hathaway several times with no answer. Lewis then decided to go around to find Hathaway at his flat.

A tall blonde woman was pounding on Hathaway's door. She had a large cardboard box of personal effects and two fishing poles propped against the wall. "James, open up! I know you're in there." The woman sounded exasperated.

Lewis approached with caution. "Good afternoon, miss. Looking for James Hathaway?"

"I am. Is that any of your business?"

Lewis showed his warrant card. "Perhaps."

"Oh bloody hell. I'm his sister and he won't open the door."

"James is an only child. I used to be his governor, you see, and I've visited his childhood home."

"Well then," the distraught women sniffed, "maybe you don't know the Hathaways as well as you think you do."

Lewis looked at the woman in earnest and recognized that angsty Hathaway look. Maybe she was telling the truth- Crevecoeur Hall had been full of secrets, after all.

Lewis knocked on the door. "James, are you there, it's Robbie." The door creaked open to reveal a slightly inebriated James Hathaway.

"Robbie. I see you've met Nell. Come in."

Nell plunked the box down on the floor. "What is all this?" Hathaway asked.

"Dad's effects- things he thought you might want. You said you were coming to help me." Hathaway just shook his head. "Fine then. The fishing poles are still in the hallway. Good bye, James." Nell stalked out.

"Is there something you want to tell me, lad?" Lewis prodded.

"Not really." Hathaway looked at Lewis' steely blue eyes and realized that resistance was futile. "I've been estranged from my father for several years now. He is suffering from dementia but before he took a turn for the worse he had the presence of mind to get his affairs in order. And thus, I recently learned- from his living will, no less- that I have a half-sister."

"Blimey," Lewis commented.

"Part of me had been tempted to ask Hobson for a cheek swab, but it all makes sense. Nell had been looking for her birth father for years, and eventually found him. They'd been in contact for a few years before I even knew she existed. She wanted to get to know him and so she was the one to spend time with him as he descended into whatever state he's in now. I wasn't around, so I don't know anything about anything. And now Nell and I in the process of moving him to a specialized care home for dementia patients. So, there you go, Robbie, the mystery of my exotic holiday revealed."

"I'm sorry to hear it, lad. If there's anything Laura and I can do…"

Hathaway took another drink from his tumbler glass. "Did you want something, Robbie? Why are you here?"

"Erm, I wanted to ask you about this." Lewis felt silly now, showing Hathaway the letter he'd found after the younger man had confessed so much to him.

"Moody asked for it. It would appear that he wants to eliminate your position. I tried to defend you."

"So you're telling me my face doesn't fit anymore."

"Your face has never fit, Robbie. It's part of your charm."

Lewis couldn't be mad at Hathaway after that. He knew that Hathaway wasn't in a state to talk about office politics anyway, so he left it there.

"You know, I've still got that canoe taking up space in Laura's garden. I see you've acquired some fishing poles if you want to go out sometime."

Hathaway didn't know what to say, so he took another drink.

"Or you could borrow the canoe and invite Nell. Maybe it would help."

"What exactly would that help?

"It would help you to get to know your sister."

Hathaway nodded to concede defeat. "I'd rather now talk about it now, Robbie," he said quietly.

Lewis looked down at his mobile which had buzzed in a new text message from an old friend.

_I know you're busy but could you possibly stop by this afternoon? I need a sympathetic ear. Thanks in advance. Louise_

"Interesting," he said to himself. "Duty calls, James. I've got to follow up on something. Will I see you tomorrow at work?"

Lewis took his leave from Hathaway and thought to himself that if Moody really wanted to terminate his contract that perhaps he could open a counseling service for friends and colleagues. He shook his head as he remembered how much he hated shrinks.


	4. My ramblin' pal

Robbie Lewis was stood on Louise Cornish's doorstep, waiting for some time before she answered the bell wearing a cleaning smock.

"Robbie Lewis! I'm sorry I didn't hear the bell- I was just hoovering the place… But do come in; this is a pleasant surprise."

Lewis entered the home that Louise had once shared with her husband Jack Cornish. He remembered happy gatherings of days gone by when he and Val would spend time with Jack and Louise and how the kids enjoyed playing together.

"It's good to see you, Louise, but you seem surprised. Didn't you send me a text message asking me to come?"

She looked blankly back at Lewis. "No, I didn't. But I can offer you some tea and we can try to get to the bottom of it."

Lewis accepted though he was uneasy with why he may have been summoned there. He showed her the text message on his phone.

"No, that's not my mobile number, Robbie. Besides, I would call you from the home phone as I always do. I hardly even text, even the boys know to call me. Do you think it's just a coincidence from another Louise who got a wrong number? I know several Louises, and they are all lovely…"

"I'd like to think so, but that's too much coincidence. Louise, do you have any news of Jack these days?"

"I haven't seen him in some time, but he's been great at sending money for the boys. Never misses a month. I suppose he's quite upset with me, though. You see, I've initiated divorce proceedings."

"Ah." Lewis said. "I think that may be for the best."

"Yes, Robbie. I've actually met someone. I'm ready to move on. The boys are nearly grown and I know that Jack isn't coming back. I don't know- don't want to know, really- what he's gotten mixed up in with the police because he's still the father of my kids. I suspect that's why you're here though."

"I don't know why I'm here meself, but I suspect that you're right. I thought I caught a glimpse of him two weeks ago in Manchester, though. I was visiting our Lyn."

"Manchester? I wouldn't know anything about that. But do tell me all about how Lyn is doing. How's her little family?"

Louise broke off the conversation when one of her sons called home from uni. Lewis and Louise had talked amicably for the better part of an hour, but Lewis didn't get the sense of how Jack and this visit fit into the looming puzzle of Moody.

* * *

In the early morning hours, Laura Hobson rolled over in bed and kissed Robbie Lewis goodbye as she had been called out to a crime scene. She always cringed a little when she knew that the DI in charge was Alan Peterson.

DI Peterson's bagman was none other than Alex Gray, who had recently been promoted to Detective Sergeant. Hobson thought that they made a good team. Peterson was a bit of an Action Man, but Gray was calm and intuitive. He had learned from Lewis how to listen.

Dr Hobson was attending the corpse and let the SOCOs know that they were on the lookout for their old friend the blunt instrument. Looking up at the lead SOCO from where she was on the floor, something caught her eye- a photograph on the mantel.

"Gray, can I have a word please?" DS Gray approached Dr Hobson. "Do you remember the drugs case you worked on with Robbie a few years ago?" Gray nodded. Hobson pointed out the photo of a man and his two sons.

"Is that Jack Cornish?" Gray asked.

"It is." Hobson confirmed. "I can only assume that our unfortunate victim here is his wife Louise. I never met her myself, but I know that Robbie was a friend." She shook her head, wondering how Lewis would take the news.

As she attended the corpse with care, a SOCO came back to her with a possible murder weapon. "Dr Hobson, we found this wheel brace hidden in the bushes in back of the house. It appears to have blood on it."

Dr Hobson took the four-way lug wrench into her gloved hands. "Yes, this will do," she murmured. As she examined the wheel brace more carefully, she found herself in the grasp of a far-off memory. She froze.

"Are you all right, Doctor?" the SOCO asked.

"Quite." She said, and left it at that, retreating to her memory.

* * *

The previous summer, Lewis and Hobson had gone out for a day of hiking along the Cotswold Way. Lewis thought he knew a short cut to a particularly scenic village with a cracking pub, but he and Hobson ended up with a punctured tyre somewhere in rural Gloucestershire.

Hobson wanted to call a mechanic, but Lewis was convinced that he could change the tyre himself. Hobson located the fix-a-flat kit in the boot of the car. As Lewis jacked up the car, Hobson examined the wheel brace, trying to determine which of the four ends would fit around the tyre's wheel nuts.

Back at the scene of Louise Cornish's murder, Hobson realized that she was holding that same wheel brace with her gloved hand.


	5. is dead and gone

Dr Hobson raced home and headed straight to the garage, where she began to search the boot of Lewis' car. "Robbie!" she yelled.

"What is it, love?" He asked as he followed her voice to the garage.

"Where is it Robbie? The wheel brace, I mean?"

"I don't know, isn't it there with the fix-a-flat kit?"

"I see the spare tyre and the jack but no wheel brace."

"Laura, what is going on?"

"It's Louise Cornish. Jack's wife," Hobson began.

"Louise? I just saw her yesterday afternoon," Lewis said.

"YOU JUST SAW HER YESTERDAY?" Hobson was getting a little frantic. "When were you going to tell me that?"

"Well, I know that you have a slight jealous bone and I didn't want to upset you. But you needn't worry, we just had a nice chat as old friends."

"I needn't worry? You don't want to upset me? Oh, Robbie! You damned fool…"

"Tell me what is going on, Laura." Hobson pulled herself together and took Lewis by the shoulders, smoothing over his shirt before letting her hands come to rest on his chest. She looked up at him with fear in her big blue eyes.

"Louise Cornish has been murdered. With our wheel brace."

Lewis was silent for a few moments while he let that sink in. Not only was he grieving a friend, but he knew that he was being framed for her death.

"Laura, she was alive when I left, I swear."

"I believe you, I do. But someone wants to make it look you've bashed her head in!"

"Moody. He knows that I made a connection between him and Jack Cornish."

"Oh, God, Robbie…" She held him close, rubbing her face into his chest.

She lifted her head and began to kiss at his neck while her fingers undid some strategic buttons. Lewis was never quite sure how to handle a fully-emotive Hobson. She'd seemed irate a few moments ago but had turned fiercely cuddlesome.

"Erm, what are you doing, pet?"

"It's only a matter of time before the police figure out that the evidence points to you. I want to have you now, before they come for you." Hobson did like finding interesting times for their liaisons, but Lewis had too much on his mind to reciprocate her spontaneous passion.

"Laura, as much as I want you, I need you to do the post-mortem. Once I'm in the frame they'll take you off the case. You need to learn as much as you can before that happens."

"Robbie…"

"Please, Laura. Do this for me. I don't want to sound paranoid but right now you're the only one I trust to do a proper post-mortem."

Hobson disengaged. "Right." She rubbed some lip gloss off his neck. "And I'm calling my friend Marcella the solicitor on my way to work."

"I don't want a bloody solicitor, I just need Hathaway."

* * *

While Hobson was gone, Lewis did what he did best: brood. He sat in his easy chair and let his mind drift along several lines of inquiry, but they all led to his own incarceration. He hadn't been this pessimistic since Val died.

Lewis rang Hathaway, of course, but he couldn't bring himself to tell the younger man about his situation.

"My dad's had a series of small strokes…" Hathaway had explained to Lewis over the phone. So Lewis held his tongue about Louise's murder. He didn't want to rip Hathaway away from his father's side.

"James, if you do get a chance though, stop by the house. I, erm, might not see you at work but it would be good to talk, eh?"

Lewis then made sure to call the kids to tell them he loved them.

* * *

Dr Hobson drove home from work that evening anxiously. Would Lewis still be there? Would the police have brought him in? He wasn't in the house when she entered. "Robbie!" she wailed.

"In the garden, love," came his response carried on the breeze through the window. Hobson dropped her bag and went to join him where he was on the bench swing.

"Just admiring my carrots," he said feebly. She knew he'd been stewing all day. "What did you learn from Louise's post-mortem?"

Hobson kissed him and rubbed his leg. "Right. The post-mortem confirmed that Louise Cornish was bludgeoned to death with the wheel brace. Estimated time of death was between four and five yesterday afternoon."

"Damn it all to hell, that's right after I left," Lewis rubbed his hands through his hair. "They're going to pin this on me, Laura."

"There's one more thing, Robbie; she'd recently had sexual relations."

"Not with me!" He protested.

"Glad to hear it!"

"Louise did mention that she'd met someone. She told me that she was finally ready to move on from Jack; she seemed happy about the future." He sighed. "The future. Don't suppose we'll get to enjoy that now, will we, pet?"

"Moody and Cornish won't get away with this. You'll be cleared."

"Even if I am, my career is over. No one needs a DI under a cloud of suspicion as a consultant. It wasn't supposed to end this way, Laura."

"Honestly, I won't mind you giving retirement a second go. Maybe I'll go with you…"

"Laura, no matter what happens, know that I love you."

She shifted her weight towards him as much as she could without tipping the swing. She gave him a gentle kiss and stroked his cheek. His head, swirling with anxiety and conspiracy theories, ached. This time, he let Hobson take away his pain with her ministrations.

"Shall we go inside and do this properly?"

"Aye, bonny lass."

Their fingers remained enlaced as they scampered into bed and loved each other long into the night.


	6. The inevitable investigation

Lewis lay in bed next to Hobson in the pre-dawn hours. He could hear the birds chirruping as they did just before sunrise and knew that the alarm would soon be ringing. He was happily savouring the moment listening to Hobson breathe and at the same time waiting for the police to come for him as surely they would.

When she awoke, Hobson caught Lewis gazing at her lovingly. Hobson said, "let's run away together. Lyn's house. Italy. New Zealand. Wherever."

"No, pet. We've got to figure this out here or else we'll never stop running."

"My Robbie." She kissed him. "How can you be so calm about everything?"

"The centre of the storm is always still, Laura."

Lewis and Hobson eventually had to shower and dress as Hathaway texted that he would stop by before going back to the care home to look in on his dad.

* * *

"Mmm, a fry up? But it's not Saturday!" Hathaway observed in Lewis and Hobson's kitchen. "Has Robbie been a good lad?"

"Or a very bad one," Lewis answered. "But that's what I need you to help me prove wrong." Lewis then explained the situation of Louise Cornish's murder.

"So how exactly did they get the wheel brace from your car?" asked Hathaway as Hobson foisted some hot-buttered mushrooms onto his plate.

Lewis looked sheepishly at Hobson as if they'd been rowing about it for some time and he knew he was in the wrong. Hobson spoke first.

"Robbie has an overly sensitive key fob. I've told him time and time again not to carry it in his pockets…"

Hathaway pulled his cheekiest face and smirked. _Of all the stupid things to fight about,_ he thought. "Is that on overly sensitive key fob in your pocket or are you just happy to see me, Robbie?" he joked.

"Not funny, James." Hobson said. "Every time Robbie sits down within range of the car, the doors unlock, or re-lock, and half the time the boot is popped open. I keep telling him it's only a matter of time before someone nicks something. And now he's got himself framed for murder!"

"Well, what else am I supposed to do with the key? I don't carry a purse! Would it make it better if I just admitted that you were right, Laura?"

"Yes!" She paused. "Except for the part about the murder. No, being right doesn't help at all I guess."

"So now that we agree, can we move forward with a plan?"

"Yeah," said Hathaway. "I asked Moody for a few more days off work to help Nell with dad, and he was very decent about it. Encouraged me to go. But now that you mention it, maybe he was a little too eager to be rid of me."

"He knows a cleverclogs when he sees one," Lewis agreed.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

It was shortly after Hathaway made himself scarce that DI Peterson and DS Gray arrived to ask Lewis "a few questions."

"Hi Lewis, Laura," Peterson said. "I hope you know that we take no pleasure in this. I'd like to think it's just routine procedure."

"Of course," Lewis invited them in graciously, given the circumstances.

Peterson and Gray knew that Lewis had been to see Louise. She had mentioned his visit to her son; the poor lad had been devasted.

Lewis told him what he could about the mysterious text that had summoned him to Louise' home, but Action Man Peterson didn't seem interested in hypotheticals. He was more concerned with establishing the link between Lewis and the murder weapon.

"Do you carry a wheel brace in your car?"

"Yes, it's meant to be in the boot."

"Meant to be?"

"I've just discovered that it's gone missing. I don't know when it disappeared."

"I really don't want to do this, mate, but Moody is pretty insistent. I've got to ask you to come down to the station for further questions."

"I understand." Lewis gave a last forlorn look at Hobson. "We'll get this straightened out, love."

Hobson shot Peterson a dirty look and then ostentatiously kissed Lewis goodbye. DS Gray and DI Peterson looked away awkwardly.

Peterson decided to stay at the home- much to Hobson's dismay- to wait for a search warrant and SOCOs. Sergeant Gray accompanied Lewis to the station.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't believe for a second that you had anything to do with this. If there is anything I can do to help your case, you know that I will," Sergeant Gray said.

"Thank you, Gray. Keep this to yourself, but I want you to share anything and everything you can with James Hathaway. And not word to anyone else."

"I will, I promise."

Meanwhile, Dr Hobson was fuming as SOCOs combed through their residence with Alan Peterson poking all around their personal effects. She glared at Peterson from the doorway of her bedroom- the bedroom she shared with Lewis. He caught her leer.

"Come on; I don't mean any harm, Laura. The team is professional."

"Save it, Alan."

"Look, I'm sure there is nothing to this. We all know Robbie's a boy scout. He'll be back home soon."

"He'd better be. And woe be tide if one hair on Robbie Lewis' head is out of place when he is returned to me. Don't think I won't notice. Examining bodies is what I do best."

Hobson and Peterson looked at each other with sadness, both realising that the bodies she examined had to be dead first.

* * *

Later that day, Hathaway was outside the care home taking a breather. He was sat on a bench outside in the park-like setting and lit a cigarette. He stared at his phone for a while before placing a call. He prayed it would go to voicemail, which it did. He exhaled a drag of his cigarette and left a message.

"Hello, Fiona, it's James. Hathaway, I mean. You probably knew that. Anyway, I was hoping you could help me out with a work related inquiry, but please call me on my personal mobile. I need to keep this under my hat for a while. Thanks. Hope you're well." Click. Inhale. Exhale.

* * *

DI Fiona McKendrick returned Hathaway's call in short order. He explained what he wanted her to do- dig up anything she could about Joe Moody's time in Scotland Yard.

"Are you daft, James? You know how big the Met is. It'd be like finding a needle in a haystack."

"Please, Fi. It's… Robbie Lewis. Moody is trying to stitch him up for murder."

"Robbie Lewis? Has this Moody even met Lewis? He wouldn't harm a fly!"

"I know it sounds preposterous. That's why we have to help him."

"All right. For Robbie."


	7. Casting Aspersions

Lewis was sat in an interrogation room for quite some time with Hobson's solicitor friend Marcella Mowry by his side. After what seemed like aeons, Chief Superintendent Moody walked in.

"Good afternoon, Lewis."

"Sir."

"I'll have you know that you are well liked here, Lewis. Peterson and Gray can't seem to wrap their brains around the evidence, Lewis- evidence that points to you. So I am here myself."

The two men stared at each other at length. Moody pursued a thorough line of questions, trying to chisel away at Lewis' façade of calm.

"Were you having an affair with Louise Cornish?

"No, committed relationship, me." Lewis said.

"Dr Hobson will confirm that you were the one she'd had sex with before she died."

Lewis exchanged a bemused glance with his solicitor. _ Apparently, the new Chief Superintendent doesn't know who I am in a committed relationship with. _Lewis thought to himself.

Moody misread Lewis' glance at the solicitor and continued, "Jack Cornish believes that you and Louise were intimate."

"Jack Cornish is not a reliable source. Go ahead, I'll offer you a cheek swab," Lewis called Moody's bluff. Moody decided to change tactics.

"You're angry, aren't you, Lewis? Angry that we are holding you here. Angry that I don't believe you."

"I'm not angry; you're investigating my friend's death and I want you to be thorough." Lewis was confounding Moody with his stoicism. "I will say it again. I did not kill Louise Cornish."

Moody stood up. "Interview suspended." He left Lewis and Mowry alone again for several hours. Lewis could feel the stubble growing on his chin. Soon, he knew that Moody would either have to let him go or charge him.

Truth be told, Moody was right about something: Lewis was angry. He was livid that Jack Cornish was able to play the grieving widower to bend the truth. Jack didn't love Louise; he wasn't devastated the way Lewis had been when he'd lost Val. If anything, Louise's death presented new opportunities to Cornish.

When Moody returned, he again tried to force a confession from Lewis. "Look Lewis, the forensics are back. Your fingerprints are all over her home and the murder weapon."

"I've already explained how I visited her and how my wheel brace went missing."

"But your prints are even on the dish soap dispenser. You were clearly tidying up after the crime."

"No, Louise and I are old friends. We had tea; I helped her wash up after."

"I find that odd, Lewis."

Lewis shook his head. He remembered how he used to wash Morse's dishes as a sergeant. "No good deed goes unpunished, I guess."

"Enough. Robert Lewis, I'm arresting you for the murder of Louise Cornish."

* * *

Lewis found himself thinking of Morse again when he was alone in his cell. Morse too had once been framed for murder. Looking back, he could almost understand how someone as enigmatic as Morse could run afoul of the Masons and have a nemesis like Hugo de Vries. But Lewis himself? He didn't have enemies. He was sure that he was collateral damage of the connivance of Joe Moody and Jack Cornish. Now he could only hope that Hathaway would come to his rescue as he had once tried to save Morse.


	8. The Return of the Secret Sister

Hathaway had invited McKendrick to meet him at a café near the care home where his father resided a few days later.

He stood to greet her and gave a timid little wave, but she embraced him with a kiss on the cheek.

"A waistcoat? James, you look like such a prat." McKendrick teased. It _was_ fairly ridiculous given that Hathaway hadn't planned to go to work that day, but he had wanted his ex-girlfriend McKendrick that today was strictly business so he had dressed for work.

"I made inspector," he said, by way of explanation, hoping she would be proud of him.

"Is that regulation?"

Hathaway sighed. "Good to see you too, Fiona. Thanks for coming all this way. What can I get you?"

They got caught up on Lewis' situation over coffee.

Fiona contributed what she could. "So, against my own better judgment I reached out to Moody's old friends on the drugs squad in South London. Turns out you might be right. His old DS said he always was a straight shooter but the last year before he was transferred he'd become more secretive. He thought that there was probably nothing to it, but there was something else, too."

"Go on…"

"It's not a smoking gun, but it seems that the CCTV was wonky on a lot of Moody's cases. Not just a few, but a lot of cases. For instance, there was a windstorm that blew leaves over the camera, or the camera had been vandalized, or the server failed, or the file was corrupt, or the camera was offline, or a lightning bolt, or a squirrel had chewed through a wire… I mean, how many different ways can CCTV fail?"

"Really, squirrels and all..."

"So many people complain we are living in a nanny state but if Joe Moody was on a drugs case, you'd never know it.

Just then, Fiona caught sight of a tall blonde woman walking into the café and waving at Hathaway.

"James, I think someone has spotted you."

"Oh Christ," Hathaway whispered under his breath. McKendrick knew he was mad if he took the Lord's name in vain. The woman picked up her take-away order and then approached the table.

"Hello there, I'm Fiona, and I was just leaving." McKendrick said.

"No need to go on my account; I'm Nell, James' sister."

"Nice try but James doesn't have a sister," McKendrick riposted.

"You know, James, I'm getting a little tired of all your friends telling me that I don't exist."

"Look, I'm sorry. What do you want me to do, hire a sky writer so that all my ex-girlfriends know that dad cheated on my mum and now I have a sister that I didn't know about until dad was senile with dementia? Ex-girlfriend Fiona, allow me to introduce you to sister Nell. There, now we all know each other."

"Sorry, James, Nell" McKendrick whispered meekly. "I didn't think you were serious."

"Of course she's serious. Well, she's a bloody Hathaway, isn't she?" James Hathaway said.

For the first time in her brother's company, Nell smiled. "Thanks. I should be getting on to see dad."

Hathaway sighed. "I should go with you, Nell." He thought that by sneaking off with Nell he wouldn't have to make an awkward good-bye to Fiona McKendrick.

She surprised him though, when she said, "would you mind if I tagged along? I'd like to meet your dad."

* * *

James, Nell, and Fiona were sat with Philip Hathaway in the lounge of his care home. A TV was on in the corner, tuned to the local news. The likeness of Jack Cornish came on the telly, lamenting his late wife.

"Crocodile tears if I ever saw them," Nell said. "I work in the law firm that's handling the divorce for his wife."

"YOU know Jack and Louise Cornish?" Hathaway was stunned.

"Don't act so surprised, James. I do have a life outside of you and dad, you know."

James looked at Fiona, who nodded. "We're… secretly trying to solve this case because we suspect foul play at work. Can you share any impressions you have that might help?" Hathaway asked.

"Look who's suddenly paying attention to his sister!" Nell said cheekily. "Yes, James. Louise was under the impression that Jack was hiding the sources of his revenue. He'd always been very generous towards supporting the family- in cash. And now when it came time to divide the household, the paper trail didn't look like he had any assets. Louise specifically asked my firm to look into it." Nell ably supplied.

"James," McKendrick began. "Remind me again why Jack Cornish is not the number one suspect?"

"DS Grey says that was his first thought too, but that Cornish has an iron-clad alibi. Backed up by CCTV."

"Well, maybe he has a secret sibling too," Nell suggested.

"Or just someone who resembles him standing in. Nell, I think you might be onto something…" Hathaway said.

"And, we already suspect that Moody is skilled at manipulating CCTV," Fiona chirped.

James Hathaway stood up to go, but Fiona stopped him. "James, this isn't your case. You've got to lay low and hand it off to Sergeant Grey. You said he was sympathetic to Robbie's case."

Hathaway didn't like letting go where Lewis was concerned, but he agreed. "I'll tell Hobson to put a bug in Grey's ear about our theory."

"Oh, did Hobson and Lewis ever…?" McKendrick asked.

"Yeah," Hathaway said with a smile.

"Finally!" she grinned.


	9. Existential Answers

Lewis had been languishing in jail for just over a day when Hobson was finally able to see him. "I could only manage a brief visit, Robbie," she said, taking him into her arms. "You have no idea how many arms I had to twist to get here…"

"Oh, love." Lewis just sighed. "Tell me there is good news."

"Don't despair, James is working on it. And he has help. Everyone is rallying to your cause. Even Peterson has tried to tell Moody that this is insane."

"Bloody Hell, I'm not a cause, Laura. But do thank the troops for believing in me."

"Always, Robbie, always. You're our rock, my rock." She rubbed his shoulders as they sat together for a few moments. The guard outside coughed ostentatiously, Hobson's cue to leave. "I'll see you again soon, I promise."

"I love you, pet."

* * *

The next day Hathaway and McKendrick appeared at his cell door. "Home time," Hathaway declared.

"What took you so long?"

"We'll explain in the car, Lewis" McKendrick said.

"Inspector McKendrick? You are a sight for sore eyes," Lewis answered.

* * *

"Jack Cornish's alibi was rubbish," Hathaway started to explain. "It turns out that his cousin Nick Cornish bears a striking resemblance. Nick was the one on the CCTV the night of the murder, wearing Jack's coat and driving Jack's car. Apparently, when Louise initiated divorce proceedings, it threatened to blow the lid off his dodgy finances…"

"…which of course were entangled in drug smuggling." McKendrick finished. "So he had to keep her quiet."

"And when Moody mentioned to Cornish that I had seen him in Manchester at the match, Cornish decided to frame me to get me out of the picture as well." Lewis followed.

"Right, that brings us to Manchester," said McKendrick. "Cornish was smuggling drugs off of cargo ships coming into Liverpool. He was trying to supply dealers in Manchester when he was finally intercepted."

"Cornish had the burner phone used to lure you to Louise's house on him when he was arrested. He hasn't confessed to her murder yet, but it's only a matter of time. His cousin admitted to being coerced to appear as Jack on the CCTV for an alibi." Hathaway said.

"And Moody?" Lewis asked.

"That's still a mystery," Hathaway admitted. "We'll have to tread lightly."

"My colleagues at Scotland Yard suspect he may be bent," McKendrick said. "James here drafted me and convinced me to spend my holiday clearing your name."

"Ta. Well, James has had worse holiday plans, I suppose. I'll see that he takes you somewhere nice next time."

Hathaway and McKendrick exchanged a awkward glance.

They drove Lewis to his home where he invited them in for a celebratory glass. "Brace yourself," Hathaway told McKendrick. "Hobson is going to snog him something fierce when we walk in the door." McKendrick stifled a giggle. "No, seriously, this one time at the White Horse…"

Lewis too expected that Hobson would jump into his arms as he walked through the door. He was surprised to see Hobson sipping tea on the couch instead of running to greet him. "Welcome home, Robbie. We have company, darling," she said calmly, though he could tell she was bottling her rage.

Across from Hobson sat Joe Moody in their living room.

If Moody isn't Innocent, is he guilty?

* * *

Author Note: In one of my better stories, Supping with the Devil, I somehow accidentally renamed Jack Cornish "Nick." So I am spoofing myself here with the identical twin cousin bit. I know, it's completely daft.


	10. Moody: not Innocent

_Fifteen minutes earlier_

Moody rang the bell at Lewis' house, hoping to talk to the detective freshly released from prison. He was surprised to see Laura Hobson open the door.

"Dr Hobson? What are you doing here?"

Laura Hobson stared at Moody, "It's my house, Moody."

"With Lewis?"

"Yes, with Lewis, whenever you decide to end this nonsense and let him come home."

"He should be on his way. That's what I'm here to talk to him about. May I come in?"

* * *

As Hobson when to the kitchen to make tea, Moody called DI Peterson. "At what point were you going to tell me that Lewis and Hobson were in a domestic partnership?"

Alan Peterson was silent for a few moments. "Sir, I thought it was common knowledge."

Moody thought he could hear Sergeant Gray sniggering in the background. Not for the first time that day did he feel like he had failed as a detective.

* * *

"Sir." Lewis stared at Moody.

Joe Moody stood up from where he was sat in Lewis and Hobson's living room. "Forgive the intrusion, Lewis."

"Welcome home, Robbie. Come, have tea with us." Hobson patted the couch next to her. "James, Fiona, pull up some chairs. James, you know where more mugs are in the kitchen."

Moody spoke, "Thank you for your service to Her Majesty. We've managed to seize an entire cargo ship packed with illicit substances and prevented them from reaching the streets."

Lewis glared at Moody's invoking the monarch, "I can't say I've enjoyed my stay in Her Majesty's Prison."

Moody nodded. "Things got out of hand, Lewis. Louise Cornish never should have died. This may mean my badge."

"Explain." Lewis said tersely.

"I've been working undercover trying to bring Jack Cornish down for a long time, since the time I was working in London. We were waiting for him to make a mistake, but he is remarkably good at keeping his hands clean. But he went too far in killing Louise. We knew then that we had to bring him down. And in order to do that, we had to make him think that you were taking the blame for Louise's death."

"So all that time I was left to rot in a cell? And when you interrogated me, you knew?" Lewis was trying to speak in measured tones, but his rage was bubbling up towards the surface.

"I know that I really tested your mettle, Lewis. And for that I am profoundly sorry. But for all intents and purposes it had to appear as if Cornish was in the clear so that we could lull him into a false sense of security. We needed to remain close enough to him to apprehend him once we had what we needed."

Lewis did not like being used as a pawn in a game. He always treated people with respect. He regained his composure. "I think I'd like you to leave now."

Moody moved towards the door. "You've proven that you're a tough nut to crack, Lewis. I want you to know that you'll always have a place here as a consultant. You have the respect of the entire team."

Lewis looked incredulous. "You think I would return to work for CID after how I've been treated? After how you got Louise killed? No, I'm going as far away from Oxford as I can get. Dr Hobson has been wanting to explore New Zealand for some time..."

"I respect your decision. The offer stands if you change your mind." Moody left the house.

Once Moody was on the other side of the door, silenced reigned for a long moment. It was a tense tableau of people both angry and relieved, not knowing what to do or say next. Finally, Lewis burst. "Get stuffed!" He yelled at the door.

"Now that's the Lewis I know," Hathaway told McKendrick.

"Damn it to Hell…" Lewis exclaimed before he collapsed onto the couch and buried his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. Hobson rubbed his leg and made soothing murmurs in his ear.

Hathaway and McKendrick couldn't help but reach for each other at the sight of Lewis and Hobson's bond.

"I've missed you, James," McKendrick whispered.

"And I you, Fiona."

"Maybe we should go somewhere?"

"Agreed. Lead on, my lady. I mean… Inspector."

And the two Inspectors scurried off to Hathaway's flat.

* * *

Lewis and Hobson lay tangled together in their bed for some time the next morning.

"Did you really mean it, Robbie? About jacking it all in and going to New Zealand?"

"Hush, pet. For now, I am just happy to sleep in me own bed again. Our bed. I was afraid for a while that I wouldn't get back here. This is where I want to be."

"I can see that I may still need to convince you to explore new worlds," said Hobson, sitting up then straddling Lewis.

"Yes, Laura," he murmured. "I might need some more convincing." He put his hands on her hips, squaring her position.

"I thought you might," she said, reaching for him.

"Let's go."

"Far away?"

"Far, far, away…"


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

The ordeal had changed Robbie Lewis. Despite finding pleasure with Hobson in the wake of his release from prison, he was withdrawn and didn't want to leave the house. Hobson had not seen him like that since he'd lost his wife. Back then, he'd closed off the world and wallowed in grief. Now, he felt so burned by the system that he'd trusted all his life that he just wanted to shut it all out. Hobson tried to talk to him about it.

"Louise and Val were close once," is all that Lewis would say. Hobson tried to get him to elaborate but he just shook his head. It was evident that Lewis took Louise Cornish's death to heart, even if he wasn't to blame. He hated having been lured to her home- he had known something was wrong and he should have protected her. She was Val's friend, and with Louise's death he had failed Val again.

"It's not your fault," Hobson would remind him. But Lewis remained in his rut. Hobson eventually called in reinforcements.

* * *

Lyn and wee Jack burst into the Lewis-Hobson home about a month after his release. "Surprise!"

"Your old man doesn't like surprises, pet," Lewis said. "But it's good to see you."

"I know, dad. But I couldn't stay away any longer. Laura is worried about you, so I'm here to take you out. Come on, let's get dressed and go out. It was a long drive and I'm hungry."

Lewis was hesitant. "The fridge is stocked; you could eat something here."

"No dad, I want to eat by the river and enjoy Oxford nightlife."

Lewis gave in. "Excellent," Lyn said. She promptly poked a message into her smartphone.

Lewis knew to be suspicious. "Who are you texting, Lyn?"

Lyn looked sheepish. "Only James. He wants to see you too."

Lewis sighed. "All right, but just James. I can't handle anymore of Oxford's finest tonight."

Lyn said, "well, I think that James is bringing Fiona. They're a couple again."

Lewis smiled. "OK, Fiona too."

Hobson interjected, "Oh, and I really wanted to meet this Nell. I hope you don't mind..."

"Of course not," Lewis answered, though in truth this gathering was larger than what he was comfortable with- and because he could tell by the look on Hobson's face that she was still holding back.

"Who else, Laura?"

"Well, Lizzie Maddox is just back from visiting Tony in Canada."

"OK, I have missed our Lizzie..."

* * *

When they approached Lewis' favourite pub, the fairy lights on the outdoor seating area were twinkling in the twilight. A smiling face lifted a glass and smiled across the pub. "Alex Gray," Lewis said. "He's a good lad," he noted to Hobson. But his smile turned to a frown when he saw Alan Peterson also nod kindly in his direction.

"Bloody Hell, not Action Man."

"I know, Robbie, but he wants to wish you well."

"What the Hell is going on, Laura? Why did you get so dressed up tonight?"

Hobson said nothing, but made her classic smirk as she smoothed out his shirt and collar with her hands.

"It's a party dad." Lyn was blunt. "Your retirement party. I know you hate surprises, but you wouldn't let us plan it otherwise."

"Bollocks." Lewis said. "I suppose it's too late to run away."

Hobson nodded. "Your colleagues weren't going to let you just fall through the cracks. So you're going to go over there, smile and let people buy you drinks."

"Speaks the voice of experience?" Asked James Hathaway, who had just come over to usher Lewis into the party.

"Touché, James," said Hobson.

* * *

After a few drinks in good company, Lewis was feeling much better. Hobson and Lyn had been right to bring Lewis out of his shell. He was contentedly swapping canoe stories with Lizzie Maddox- fresh back from an extended hiatus in Canada- when he saw another familiar head pop into the pub.

"Who the Hell invited Moody?" Lewis bellowed, spilling some of his drink.

Maddox looked confused. "I... might have mentioned it to him. Did I miss something?"

Everyone looked around realising that Lewis' absence from Oxford CID had been the proverbial elephant in the room that no one spoke about. Poor Maddox hadn't a clue.

"Never you mind, lass." Lewis said. "Never you mind."

Moody approached. "Greetings, Lewis. Not sure if I'm quite welcome here, but I wanted to offer you a parting gift." He handed Lewis an envelope. "I know that football tickets can't bring back your friend, but please accept them as a small token of my penance."

Lewis slid the envelope into his his breast pocket and said, "thank you, sir."

"It's Joe."

Hathaway was sceptical of Moody's olive branch. "The inquest into Louise Cornish's death is nearly complete. Then we can talk about penance, sir."

Hathaway realised that the dynamic had changed. If he had spoken to Innocent that way, she would have put him in his place. But Moody just gave Hathaway a look that said, 'I know you're right, but I'm still your boss.' Lewis put a fatherly arm on Hathaway to push him back, then demonstrated his own way.

Ever the magnanimous officer, Lewis shook Moody's hand and said "Good luck, Joe" before Moody slipped off into the night once more.

FIN

* * *

Author note: Sorry for the slight delay on the ending. My original ending was that Moody was seriously bent and was going to make an attempt on Lewis' life only to be foiled by Hathaway... but I found that I couldn't write it. So here is an ending worthy of Lewis' resolution music playing them out. Thank you for reading and for your kind reviews!


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